The sedan hummed as it sped down the expressway.
Kiyotaka Ijichi gripped the steering wheel, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror. Satoru Gojo sat in the back, his posture relaxed but the air around him thick with a cold, sharp tension.
"Gojo-kun..."
"Don't bother, Ijichi." Satoru ran a hand through his white hair, his voice cutting through the silence. "The higher-ups brought this on themselves. Since Souma is the Clan Head and has to play the political game, he can't act too overtly. But me? I'm perfectly happy to slaughter a few of those 'chickens' to scare the rest of the monkeys."
Despite their agreement with Souma to spare Yuji Itadori, the elders had already begun their petty shadow-plays.
They had sent the three freshmen—Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara—on a mission to a juvenile detention center to handle a Cursed Womb. To their "surprise," the womb had hatched into a terrifying Grade 1 curse.
(In another timeline, it might have been a Special Grade due to Kenjaku's interference, but here, the trio had managed to survive.)
Thanks to Megumi's brutal training sessions under Satoru, he was already a high-level Grade 2, bordering on Grade 1. Combined with Yuji's monstrous physical strength and Nobara's tactical support, the three had managed to exorcise the spirit by the skin of their teeth.
But the intent remained clear. The elders hadn't just targeted the "Vessel"; they were willing to sacrifice Megumi and Nobara as collateral damage just to get to Yuji. To Satoru, this was a personal insult.
Do these old fossils really think they can touch my students and still keep their heads?
Ijichi caught Satoru's murderous aura in the mirror and decided that silence was indeed golden. He offered a silent prayer for the longevity of the council members.
"Hm?"
Suddenly, Satoru's head tilted. He sensed a massive surge of cursed energy—violent, scorching, and raw.
"A Special Grade?" Satoru's brows rose behind his blindfold. "And it's on a completely different level than the usual trash."
He remembered Souma's warning about a new, mysterious faction lurking in the shadows. Is this one of them?
"Ijichi, stop the car up ahead."
"Eh? But—"
"We have a guest."
Confused but obedient, Ijichi pulled over. Satoru stepped out, waving the driver away. He stood alone on the deserted stretch of highway, leisurely stretching his limbs as if preparing for a light jog.
"Well... I was looking for a place to vent some frustration anyway. I hope you can take a punch," Satoru muttered.
The sky above him suddenly went dark. A silhouette descended like a meteor, a massive fist driving toward the pavement with the force of an avalanche.
Satoru stepped back casually, avoiding the strike by a hair's breadth.
CRACK!
The concrete shattered, spiderweb fractures racing across the highway for dozens of meters. Satoru observed the intruder with interest. The creature had a head shaped like a volcano, a single massive eye, and a short, stout frame that belied the staggering amount of cursed energy radiating from it.
"You look like you've got some personality," Satoru mused.
Before he could finish the thought, a wave of heat surged from his side.
"Die!" Jogo roared, his hands forming a seal.
A volcanic vent erupted directly from the side of the road, spewing molten lava and pillars of flame that completely engulfed Satoru. Jogo let out a sneer of pure disdain.
"The 'Strongest Trio'? What a joke. The younger brother is a fraud; it seems that Souma Gojo won't be much better..."
"Hey, hey. You can talk trash about me all you want," a voice rang out from the inferno, "but bringing my brother into this is just rude."
Satoru stepped out of the flames, his uniform pristine and his expression bored.
Jogo froze for a second, then his jagged teeth bared in a grin. "You survived? Good. It would have been too boring otherwise!"
He clapped his hands, releasing a swarm of Ember Insects. The tiny, buzzing curses flew at Satoru, detonating like high-explosive grenades upon contact. But Satoru was already gone, standing on the embankment overlooking the road.
How strange, Satoru thought. Beyond just power, he has human-level intelligence and speech. This is a high-functioning entity.
"Got you!"
Jogo appeared instantly in front of Satoru, his palm wreathed in white-hot fire. He slammed his hand directly into Satoru's face, the flames erupting in a blinding flash. Jogo followed up immediately with a palm strike to the gut, the shockwave leveling the nearby trees and churning the earth.
Seeing Satoru enveloped in the blast, Jogo felt a surge of triumph. He turned his back, walking away with a cold laugh. "Nothing but a lot of talk."
"Wait, where are you going?"
Jogo stopped dead. He spun around to see Satoru stepping out of the smoke, once again completely unharmed. Not a single hair on his head was singed.
"Impossible! I felt the impact! I hit you!"
"Actually, you didn't," Satoru explained helpfully. "You hit the 'Infinity' that exists between us. Want to try it for yourself?"
Satoru held out his hand. Jogo hesitated, his single eye darting between the hand and the man. Is it a trap? An opening?
"Come on, don't be shy," Satoru teased.
Jogo cautiously reached out and pressed his palm forward. He pushed with all his might, but his hand stopped inches from Satoru's skin, as if blocked by an invisible, impenetrable barrier.
"See? This is 'Infinity.' You can't touch me... but I can touch you."
With a sudden, lightning-fast motion, Satoru interlaced his fingers with Jogo's, locking their hands together in a bizarrely intimate gesture. Before the curse could react, Satoru's free right hand drove three rapid-fire punches into Jogo's stomach, each hit making the curse's internal organs scream.
With a final blow that sent Jogo soaring into the sky, Satoru raised two fingers.
"Cursed Technique Reversal: Red."
BOOM!
The crimson orb of repulsion struck Jogo like a freight train, sent him skipping across the forest canopy like a stone across water until he crashed into the center of a nearby lake.
In the heartbeat that followed, Satoru vanished.
At Jujutsu High, the dorms were silent.
Yuji Itadori lay on his bed, having spent the last ten minutes staring at his poster of a certain tall, well-endowed pop star before finally drifting into a peaceful sleep.
Suddenly, a tall figure appeared by his bedside.
"Itadori-kun? Itadori-kun?" Satoru whispered.
Finding no response, Satoru reached into his pocket and pulled out a high-intensity tactical flashlight. Click.
The room was instantly flooded with a light so bright it felt like the sun had moved into the dorm. Yuji bolted upright, squinting and clutching his face as his brain tried to reboot. "Wha—what? Sensei?"
Satoru offered a winning smile. "Ah, Itadori isn't sleeping after all!"
Before Yuji could even rub the sleep from his eyes, Satoru grabbed him by the back of his shirt and vanished in a blur of blue light.
At the lake, Jogo dragged himself out of the water, coughing and sputtering. He looked up to see Satoru standing on the surface of the water, casually holding a confused teenager by the collar.
Jogo's rage reignited. "If it were one-on-one, I might have been wary of you. But you were foolish enough to bring a liability with you? Heaven is on my side!"
Satoru laughed—a sharp, mocking sound that echoed across the water. "Don't worry about him."
He leaned in, his smile turning predatory. "Because you're weak, after all."
The world seemed to stop.
Jogo's head erupted. The volcano on his skull blew its top, and lava poured from his ears as his rage reached a terminal point.
"You brat! Don't you dare look down on me!"
"I'll burn you into a charred husk and feed you to the dogs!"
"Domain Expansion: Coffin of the Iron Mountain!"
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